


Any Other Way

by sullenhearts



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-18
Updated: 2014-10-18
Packaged: 2018-02-21 16:56:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2475584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sullenhearts/pseuds/sullenhearts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for triadversebigbang on LJ. Betaed by doublefourtime, thanks dude. </p><p>Derek and Lydia have always had an open marriage - but what happens when Derek falls in love with a guy, Stiles Stilinski?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Any Other Way

Derek gets out of the car to walk Ashley to her door and say goodbye. “Thanks,” he says. “This was fun. 

“It really was,” she says brightly, smiling expectantly. She’s waiting for him to say he’ll call, or they’ll do this again. But he won’t lie to her, and although it really was fun, he doesn’t feel much of a spark with her.

So instead he leans down, kisses her cheek, says goodbye and walks back to his car.

When he gets home, the house is in darkness, even though it’s not really that late. He has a quick shower and slides into bed. 

The next day is Friday. Lydia comes home with her bangs in disarray and two pens shoved in her bun. Derek’s been writing, so his books and notes are spread across the dining table. 

Lydia takes one look at it and declares, “We’re going out for dinner.”

“Good call,” Derek says, stretching. 

“I’m gonna shower first.”

“Okay, sweetie.” 

She tugs her hair out of its band and shakes it loose. She’s so beautiful; her red hair just finishes her look. Derek opens his arms for a hug and she comes across and sits in his lap. Her hair smells of raspberry shampoo and the perfume she walks through a cloud of every morning and after lunch. 

“Come and scrub my back,” she says. 

“Deal,” Derek says, and they go upstairs together. 

She runs a bath instead, pouring in some of the fancy bath salts her mom likes to send her. 

“Bad day?”

“Yeah, kinda. My eighth graders would not settle down and the freshmen had their sassy heads on. I handed out three detentions, my god. Actual, after school detentions.”

Derek smiles. Lydia almost never gives out detentions, and if she does she usually gets the kid to write a two page essay instead of sending them to the detention hall. She usually lets them pick the subject. She’s had essays on graffiti, The Hobbit and Spitfire airplanes, among other things.. “Hey,” she says, “at least they’re passionate about something.”

But still, she’s been having a bad time at school a lot recently. 

She shucks her clothes in the bathroom, putting her underwear and her blouse into the laundry hamper. Derek, from where’s he perching on the side of the bath, touches her thigh. 

She kisses him hard, standing between his knees. He touches her thighs and ass, rubs his hands over her hips. 

“Wanna fuck in the tub?” Lydia asks, her voice so throaty in his ear that his dick twitches involuntarily.

“Do you want to?”

“I do.”

“Okay,” Derek nods. He never turns her down – if she’s instigating then he’s way up for it. She steps away from him so he can get undressed.

The tub is ideal for fucking, something which Derek has taken advantage of throughout their years in this house. It’s wide, and deep. He settles himself at the end and holds a hand out for Lydia to step in. She sits astride him, water swishing over the two of them, stroking his dick gently. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he tells her. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She grins, something she almost never does. 

“I had a vague idea,” he says, grinning back at her. 

She moves so that he’s inside her and moves on him, slowly at first but building up speed. He can see the point where their bodies meet and his dick going in and out, in and out. It’s fucking _beautiful_. When she leans to kiss him he caresses her nipples which makes her moan, the vibration reverberating in his mouth. Waves splash around them as she ups her speed, moaning softly, and they rock together until all he can do is warn her. “I’m gonna –“ he says, and comes inside her, his hands spanning her hips, thumbing over her hipbones. 

She looks down at him smugly when he lays back, sated. “Okay?”

“Good. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she says, and kisses him. “Now get out of my bathroom so that I can get clean.”

He laughs and steps out. She runs the shower above the tub and steps under it, wetting her hair ready for shampoo. 

He grabs a towel and goes into the bedroom, picking up their clothes as he does. 

They haven’t had sex in three and a half months. Derek hasn’t had sex with anyone else since Terri left town a couple months ago. He feels alive again, like he hadn’t noticed something was switched off. 

He can hear the shower running and he thinks of Lydia as she was just then, naked and beautiful above him.

He touches himself hard and comes over his own hand, watching cum spill across his knuckles. 

It’s been way too long. He needs to find someone else. 

He clicks on the OK Cupid app on his phone and browses his top matches. A couple of pretty brunettes catch his eye so he sends brief intro messages to them and then gets dressed.

Lydia chooses a green knitted shirt dress, tights, and her knee high brown boots. She leaves her hair loose, curls tumbling over her shoulders. She coats her lashes in brown mascara, adds a coat of lip gloss, and she’s ready. 

“That shirt looks good on you,” she says to Derek on their way out of the door.

“Your everything looks good on you.”

She laughs. “Flatterer. Where are we headed?”

“That’s up to you. I’m easy.”

“I’m in the mood for cocktails and steak.”

There’s a decent steakhouse not far away that will serve anything if Lydia flirts enough with the barman, so they head over. Inside, it’s crammed full and noisy.

“You got about a forty minute wait,” the front of house waitress says. “Take this buzzer. When it flashes and vibrates, you’re ready.”

Derek takes it and follows Lydia to the bar where she asks for a White Russian then teaches the guy how to make it. Derek orders a red wine.

“Mmm,” Lydia says, sucking on her straw. “That’s so good.”

“Good,” Derek grins. “What’re you going to eat?”

“Steak, and maybe we can split some of those garlic prawns?”

“Sure, nice idea.”

She offers him her glass and he takes a small sip. It is good. 

“Oh,” she says. “You didn’t tell me how your date went last night?”

Derek shrugs. “It was okay.”

“Nothing special?”

“Not really.”

“That’s a shame.”

“You’re still my number one,” he says, and puts an arm around her shoulder to squeeze her. 

“I don’t doubt that.” She reaches up and rubs her thumb over his stubble. 

“Hey, Mrs Hale!” a voice says from a few feet away. 

Lydia breaks into a smile. “Hey sweetie! Derek, this is Catherine, one of my seniors.”

“Nice to meet you,” Derek says, looking at the tall girl who’s smiling at him. She’s wearing a black polo shirt with the restaurant’s emblem on the chest. “Do you work here?”

“Yeah,” she says. “Every Friday and Saturday nights.”

“Good for you,” Lydia says. 

“Mr Roper is here, too!” 

“Tom’s here?” Lydia cranes to see if she can see her colleague, a guy that Derek has never really seen eye to eye with. She follows Catherine when Catherine motions her. Derek picks up both drinks and follows.

Tom is sitting in a medium booth with a girl that Derek can only partially see. He sees Lydia and stands up to kiss her cheek.

“Hey!” he says. “Why don’t you join us? There’s plenty of room, right Ashley?”

Ah, shit. Derek looks at the girl just as Tom says this, just for long enough to see that it is indeed the girl that he himself was having dinner with twenty-four hours previously. 

Ashley nods, blushing slightly. “Sure.”

“This is Lydia,” Tom says. “She teaches English. And her husband, Derek.”

“We’ve met,” Ashley says about Derek, but she shakes Lydia’s hand. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Lydia says. “You sure you don’t mind if we join you?”

“Take a seat,” Ashley says. 

They sit down – Ashley, Tom, Lydia, then Derek. He takes a gulp of his wine. 

“So,” Tom says to Derek. “How are you doing?”

It’s an awkward dinner. Derek keeps drinking and by the time they get home his head is spinning and he falls into a dreamless sleep. 

 

*

 

When Lydia gets home the following Monday Derek has already started dinner and is sitting in the Ikea rocker reading a paper that a colleague has just published. Lydia has her heels in her hand as she comes into the living room.

“Tom knows,” she says.

“Hmm?” Derek looks up at her.

“That girl he was with on Friday, Ashley? She told him that she had a date with you on Thursday.”

“Oh.”

“Mmm. So Tom sat me down in a very concerned manner and told me you’re cheating on me.”

“Oh, Jesus.” Derek takes his glasses off. 

“Ugh, I know.” Lydia starts to unbutton her skirt. “I’ve been thinking more about moving.”

A month or two ago, Lydia had been contacted by the principal of her old high school in California, offering her the assistant principalship. They’d kept in touch throughout Lydia’s life, and Lydia hasn’t said no to the job offer. She and Derek have talked about it. The only thing keeping them in Idaho is Lydia’s job. Moving to California would actually mean they were closer to Derek’s university, which would work out better for him. 

“I said we can, I said it’s totally up to you.”

“I know, I know. I’m indecisive. I do want the job.”

“But…?”

“But I love my current job too.” Lydia’s school is in a poor area of Boise. Her kids have special requirements and need dedicate teachers like Lydia. 

Derek thinks she is about the best teacher in the world. 

“If I wanted to leave this semester, I’d have to give my notice next week,” Lydia says, sucking her lip in thought. 

“Sweetie – if you want to, let’s go. If it’s not just this, but you really want to take that job, then let’s do it.”

 

*

 

California is hot. They’ve travelled in convoy; Lydia in her VW bug with a tiny trailer attached and Derek driving a Uhaul truck with all their stuff in. It’s only taken a day. They’re staying tonight in a motel. Lydia gets out of the car in the parking lot and stretches. 

“Boy, it’s hot,” she says. Her tank top is stuck to her back and her hair is in a high ponytail. Derek catches her around the waist and kisses her. 

“Is it always like this?” Derek asks. 

“Welcome to July,” she laughs, and hand in hand they go inside to check in. 

They rent a house in a quiet, tree-lined street and Derek takes over the dining area in the open kitchen to work.

 

*

 

Derek buys an espresso and a biscotti and looks around for where he wants to sit. He needs to charge his laptop so he needs a socket. There’s one at an empty table on one wall so Derek sits down. There’s a few other customers in the shop but it’s quiet. 

Derek is typing away, unaware of anything, lost in his chapter. He pauses every now and then for a sip of his coffee and a suck at the biscotti. It’s good, homebaked. He rifles through the notes he has with him, looking for the citation he needs. Shit, he’s split drops of coffee on the papers. 

A shadow falls over the table. “Hey, uh.”

Derek looks up into the face of a young guy who’s smiling at him. “Hi?”

“Yeah, uh. Hi. I’m Stiles and I, uh.”

“Hi. I’m Derek.”

“Hey, it’s good to meet you, I…”

Derek raises his eyebrows and the guy – Stiles? – blushes and looks away. He actually fucking blushes. Derek laughs slightly. There’s a pause.

“Can I buy you a coffee?” Stiles asks eventually.

“Sure,” Derek says. “Espresso, please.”

Stiles goes up to the counter, wallet in his hand. Derek watches him. He’s cute; hair longer on top and cut neatly into the back. He’s wearing a green t-shirt and black jeans and boots that look like they came from the army surplus store. Derek likes it; it’s uncomplicated. 

He comes back with two drinks.

“Thanks,” Derek says, and flashes a smile. 

He’s pretty sure Stiles whimpers a little.

He does have a nice smile. 

“I’m so bad at this,” Stiles says, looking away. “I don’t often try to pick up guys in coffee shops.”

“Ah,” Derek says, teasing. “So that is what you were trying to do.”

“See, Jesus Christ, was it that bad?”

“I’m kidding,” Derek says. “You offered to buy coffee, that’s a good start.”

“My friend said so, yeah.” Stiles motions with his hand and for the first time Derek notices a guy at a table over the other side. All Derek can see of him is dark floppy hair and a newspaper that he is pretending to read while studiously ignoring them. 

“He has good advice.”

“So I said my name right?” Stiles says nervously.

“Stiles, yeah. Kind of unusual.”

“It’s short for Stilinski. Which is my surname, before you ask.”

“Also unusual.”

“It’s Polish.”

“I’m Derek.”

“You said, yeah. Which stops Scott and I calling you Mr Academic, which is what we christened you.”

“You think I’m an academic?”

“Well, you have all these papers and books, and the glasses…”

“Huh. Well, you’re right, kinda. I’m doing my PhD.”

“I knew it.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m studying for my masters at the moment. In teaching. I work in a bar, though.”

“Cool, that’s cool.” Derek reaches for his coffee with his left hand and Stiles blinks at him.

“Shit, I didn’t realise – I’m sorry.” Stiles moves backwards, away from the table.

“What?” Derek asks.

“Didn’t realise you were married – you could’ve said, Jesus. Just flirt with a guy, even after I _said_.”

“Oh – fuck – no.” Derek fumbles for his bag, knowing that there’s a polyamory pin on the strap. “We’re polyamorous.”

“What? Shit, don’t use that as an excuse–”

Derek finds the pin and holds it out between them like a peace offering. “I swear. We are.” 

“Huh.” Stiles frowns at the pin, then at Derek. “So am I.”

“No way.”

“Yes way. Scott over there is – well he used to be my primary, until Kira came along and changed his mind.” Stiles gives this self-deprecating shrug that’s really kind of sweet.

Derek looks over at Scott again. “Huh.”

“So your primary… Who is that?” 

“My wife,” Derek says. “She’s kind of amazing.”

“She must be if she doesn’t mind sharing a guy like you.” Stiles catches himself and blushes. 

Derek can’t help but grin again. “Thanks.”

“So would you have dinner with me sometime?”

“I’d like that.”

 

*

 

“I have a date tomorrow,” Derek says over dinner. “During the day, though.”

“Oh, okay.” Lydia smiles. “I’ll be straight home after school tomorrow.”

“Then maybe we could go up to the lake for a couple hours?”

“Sounds good.”

Although Stiles had said dinner, he actually works six nights a week so they’d decided on lunch instead. Derek puts on a clean blue shirt and dark jeans and finds his shades. He always needs them in California. 

The car is stupidly hot. Derek stands with the door open until it’s cooled down enough for him to get in. 

They’re meeting downtown, in what turns out to be a dusty diner that’s almost deserted. 

“Charming place,” Derek says as he slides into a booth opposite Stiles, who’s already there.

“Isn’t it? Order a chocolate malt, they’re kind of out of this world.”

Derek does, and a burger and fries, and they split an order of onion rings. Everything’s delicious. 

“I know,” Stiles says when he says that. “That’s why I’ve been coming here for twenty years.”

“Seriously? You don’t look old enough.”

“I’m thirty-two.”

“Ah. Same age as Lydia.”

“How old are you?”

“Thirty-seven.”

“Wow.”

“I worked for years – I was in finance. Then I decided to do my PhD and fortunately we were lucky – we had enough money for me to do that.”

“So what are you studying?”

“An obscure English author called A S Byatt.”

“Never heard of him.”

“She’s a woman.”

“Oops,” Stiles says. “My bad.”

“I might forgive you,” Derek grins, used to it. 

“Good,” Stiles says, and bites into another onion ring. 

“So how come you’ve been hanging around here your entire life?”

“Oh. Well, my mom was in the hospital across the street when I was, like, ten.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Well, no, it’s not. My mom died when I was twelve and it still fucking sucks, but what do you do?”

“You miss her every day and live the best life you can because that’s the only thing you _can_ do.”

Stiles pauses in eating and looks up at Derek. “Yours too?”

“Both of mine. Car accident.”

“Jesus Christ.” 

“You said it.”

Stiles reaches across the sticky Formica table and strokes Derek’s hand. “I’m sorry.”

“So am I,” Derek says, touched by the physical gesture. 

Stiles squeezes his fingers and moves his hand away.

After lunch Stiles invites Derek back to his place and, well, Derek doesn’t want to stop talking. There’s something about Stiles that makes him want to spill his secrets. How many other people has he told about his parents so soon? 

Derek follows Stiles’ instructions and parks outside a clean, wide, four storey building. Stiles’ apartment is on the second floor. It’s a studio, but it’s got plenty of space. The walls are yellow and two large windows look on to the quiet street. 

“Want a drink?” Stiles asks.

The kitchen part is under a loft, where Derek can see the bed. Stiles only just fits, his head almost brushing the low ceiling. 

“Coke?” Derek says. “Or something?”

“Sure,” Stiles says, opening the tiny refrigerator. “Take a seat.”

Derek sits on a small couch in the corner near one window. There’s a music system to his right, with a small pile of CDs and a bigger pile of vinyl. Derek shuffles through a few.

“Choose one,” Stiles says.

“Thanks. Man, it’s years since I saw this much vinyl.” Derek picks out the Mamas and the Papas and lays the record carefully on the player. The needle crackles like he remembers it used to and he sits back on the sofa to listen. 

Stiles sits down next to him, handing him a drink. He’s turned towards Derek, his arm on the back of the couch and his knee pressing gently into Derek’s thigh. 

Derek drains half his can of Coke, suddenly nervous. 

“Thank you for lunch,” Stiles says. “For paying, I mean.”

“Oh, hey, no. I insist.”

“Do you always pay? Chivalry alive and well?” Stiles winks.

“I’ll always offer,” Derek says. 

“Do you date a lot?”

“Um, not recently? Not since Terri left Boise. Before her it was just sex, but she and I really connected and I fell for her deeper than I meant to. Lydia and I had to talk about that a lot, actually.” 

“Does she see other people too?”

“No, no. It’s just me.” Derek doesn’t want to spill too many of Lydia’s secrets, even though his own seem to be fair play today. “Like I said, it was just sex until it wasn’t.”

“What’s she like?”

“Beautiful. Gorgeous. Amazing.”

“You’re so cute.” Stiles punches Derek’s arm lightly.

“Sorry. She is. She’s such a great teacher and just – a beautiful person.”

“Oh yeah you said she’s a teacher. What does she teach?” 

“English. She’s Assistant Principal at Beacon Hills High now, though.”

“Oh okay. That’s why you’ve moved here.”

Derek nods. “She’s from here.”

“She’s from Beacon Hills?”

“Yeah, she always wanted to come back and teach here, so…” Derek shrugs. Stiles looks at him oddly. “What?”

“Do I know her? She’s the same age as me, right? We’d have been the same graduating class?”

“I guess? I guess you might know her.”

“What’s her surname?”

“Hale, but she was Martin.”

Stiles splutters. “Your wife is Lydia Martin?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, my god. Oh my _god_.”

“You do know her?”

“I only had the biggest crush on her when I was in school. God, you’re so lucky.”

“I know,” Derek smiles. “I certainly am.”

They kiss goodbye as Derek is leaving, but nothing else. For the rest of that day he thinks about Stiles. He’s never had a guy as a partner before, ever. He’s kissed a few, back in his early twenties, but he’s never seen one regularly or, in fact, slept with one. 

He needs to tell Lydia and he does so the next day, when she’s back from work and he’s tidying stuff away while cooking as she’s marking papers at the table.

“You know my date yesterday?”

“Yeah?”

“It went well.”

“Good, I’m glad sweetie.” She sounds distracted, glasses perched on her nose.

“He’s a guy. And I’d like to see him again so I thought maybe we should, you know, talk about it.”

“Oh. Wow.” She looks up. “I didn’t know you liked guys, not really.”

“No, I know. But he’s cute, and sweet, and funny.”

“Okay then.”

“Yeah?” Derek turns away slightly to look at what he’s cooking. 

“Sure. I mean. It’s no different, right?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Good. Me either.”

“Oh, he knows you, though.”

“Hmm?”

“Same graduating class as you. Stiles Stilinski, do you know him?”

Lydia frowns at the middle distance. “Vaguely? Wow. Skinny kid, used to play on the lacrosse team.”

“Your high school has a lacrosse team…?”

“Shut up, babe, or I may have to kill you.”

 

*

 

A couple of times later when Derek sees Stiles, Scott is there at the bar that they meet in. Stiles works most evenings so they meet during the day, which is actually really nice. It gives Derek a break from his research. 

Scott kisses Stiles goodbye and smiles at Derek as he leaves. 

“I didn’t realise you and he…” Derek says, sitting down. 

“You didn’t?”

“No? You said Scott chose someone else and wasn’t your primary anymore.”

“Oh.” Stiles takes a swig of his beer. “He’s not, but we are still together.”

“Okay.” Derek signals for a beer from the bartender, who is a cute guy with sandy blond curls. He never really looked at guys before, until Stiles crossed his path. Now he’s seeing cute guys everywhere. “How come?”

“Well… Scott and me… It goes back a long time. Like, since we were teenagers?” Stiles rubs the neck of the beer bottle, making patterns in the condensation. 

Derek nods. 

“Just this awkward teenage thing – trying to figure out how I felt about guys as much as anything else.”

“Sure.”

“But then, we just stayed together, over the years. We love each other, and we enjoy the time we spend together, but we never wanted it to be serious. It was okay, like there was never anyone else we wanted to be serious with.”

“Just kept coming back to each other?”

“Something like that, only never in a bad way. I’d trust him with my life.”

“So then, someone else?”

Stiles nods.” Kira. She’s wonderful, she’s a great girl.”

“And she’s his primary.”

“Yeah. They practically live together, they’ll probably end up having a couple of kids.”

“Is that – do you mind that?”

Stiles shakes his head. “No. I still get Scott to be mine, too. We have a good time together. It’s better than not having him at all, or trying to be just friends. After so long I don’t think we could do that.”

Derek nods. “I get you.”

Stiles smiles. It’s so pretty when he does it, because his face is usually otherwise too still, like he’s concentrating hard on keeping his face still. But his smile breaks the seriousness, and his eyes smile too. It’s beautiful. “I just wish,” he goes on, “sometimes, that someone loved me that way.”

Derek doesn’t know what to say to that, so he reaches across and puts his hand on top of Stiles’.

Stiles turns his wrist so that he catches Derek’s hand. 

They end up back at Stiles’ place and head up to the tiny loft where the bed is. There’s a window Derek wasn’t expecting, which looks only at the sky. It has no blind or curtain.

“I like to watch the sky at night when I can’t sleep,” Stiles says. 

“Does that happen often?”

Stiles nods. He’s sitting on the end of the futon, while Derek is slightly behind him, looking at Stiles’ back. “Chronic insomniac.”

“Ah, that sucks," Derek says. "I usually sleep like the dead."

“I get a lot of work done in the middle of the night.” Stiles is untying his boots, the laces carefully unthreaded from each eyelet. 

They’re going to have sex. Derek has never had sex with a guy. They’ve been making out downstairs for what feels like hours and now they’ve moved upstairs. Derek’s stomach is churning and all he can do is stare at the back of Stiles’ neck, where soft skin gets hidden by his blue t-shirt. He reaches out to touch Stiles there, and is rewarded by Stiles’ laugh and his body moving away reflexively.

“Hey, you’re ticklish,” Derek says. 

“I am not,” Stiles says, turning towards Derek, still grinning. 

It’s enough to make Derek relax. He kicks off his sneakers and touches Stiles’ chest. Stiles kisses him, deeply, and they move up the bed, kissing and touching. 

When they fuck, Stiles is gentle and slow with Derek, taking it slow. It’s good – it’s different, but it’s good. Derek appreciates the slowness, and says so, afterwards.

“You’re welcome,” Stiles says. He’s all up in Derek’s space, still, so they’re chest to chest. Derek is used to his secondaries being much less into the romantic side of things. He guesses he’s always been the same; wanted sex and maybe some dating and nothing else. It’s so different to want the intimacy that he and Stiles seem to be cultivating. 

He only leaves when it’s well past five pm and he needs to be home for Lydia. 

 

*

 

“I’d like you to meet Stiles,” Derek had said. He and Stiles had only been seeing each other for a few weeks but Derek had felt like something was wrong. They are both falling for the other, head over heels, and without sharing that with Lydia it had felt like he was doing something wrong. 

So they’re on their way to the movie theatre, where they won’t have to do much other than see the movie, and then to dinner, where they’ll have it to talk about even if it’s awkward. Derek hopes it won’t be. It won’t be. Will it?

Lydia lays a reassuring hand on his thigh. “Even if I hate him, I still like him.”

“What?” Derek looks at her quickly. Traffic in Beacon Hills at this time can be crazy. 

“He makes you happy.” She shrugs. She looks beautiful, dark red lips contrasting with her pale skin. “You’re like – you’re happier than you were.”

“Thank you.”

“I was going to say not like you’ve been since Terri, but it’s different to that.”

“It feels like it, to me.”

“Yeah.” Lydia nods. “I get that, I think.”

“Does it worry you?”

“Not now I get to meet him.”

“That was what I thought.”

“Yeah.” Lydia’s quiet for a couple of minutes. “I want him to like me.”

“Sweetheart,” Derek says as he pulls into a space by the multiplex. “Everyone likes you.”

Stiles is standing by the entrance doors, his eyes on his phone, whistling jauntily. Derek can tell he’s nervous, because he doesn’t look up at them until they’re less than five feet away. He smiles, though.

“Hey,” Derek says, smiling too. He puts one arm around Stiles quickly, and kisses his cheek. Lydia still has his other hand, although she drops it to shakes Stiles’ outstretched one. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” Stiles says. “Or, re-meet you, I guess?”

“I do remember you,” Lydia says, smiling. “You were friends with Scott McCall, right?”

“Still am,” Stiles says. 

“He dated my friend Allison, remember?”

“I sure do,” Stiles says. “What happened to her?”

“She left town,” Lydia says. A cloud passes her face, but Derek’s pretty sure Stiles didn’t catch it.

“Like you did,” Stiles says. “Only now you’re back.”

Derek holds the door open for the both of them and follows to the ticket booth. 

“Yeah, Beacon Hills has a way of calling you.”

Stiles nods. “Do you like the high school?”

“Yes, thank you. The teachers are mostly really enthusiastic and the kids are great. It’s a nice place to teach.”

“Is anyone still there that I’d remember?”

Derek pulls out his wallet to pay for three tickets to Boyhood, which Stiles suggested. 

“Your coach is still there,” Lydia is saying behind him.

“No way,” Stiles says. “Jeez, he hated me.”

“Pretty sure he hates everyone,” Lydia laughs. “But yeah, he’s still there.”

They wander off together towards the snack bar. By the time Derek gets there Lydia is ordering drinks and popcorn.

“Let me get these,” Stiles says.

“I don’t mind,” Derek says.

“I do,” Stiles grins, and gives his card to the cashier.

Lydia sits between them, and Stiles grins at Derek over the top of her head. 

Derek smiles back, and turns to watch the previews.

Afterwards, they head across the complex to a restaurant, where they get a table and order a bottle of red wine. 

“Cheers,” Stiles says when it arrives. 

Derek returns the gesture. They’re sitting around a small table, which feels nice, because he didn’t have to choose who he wanted to sit next to. 

“So what did you think of the movie?” Stiles asks. He almost sounds shy, looking from one to the other, as if he’s hoping they did like his choice.

“I liked it,” Lydia says decisively. “I liked how you saw the parents age, too.”

“Yeah,” Derek says. “Overly long, though, maybe.”

“Sure,” Lydia says, “but what would you have cut out? There’s nothing you could have.”

“Sure I could,” Derek jokes. “I’m sure I could’ve.”

“I liked it,” Stiles says. “But yeah, my ass kinda went numb.”

This makes Lydia laugh out loud. She takes a sip of her wine, leaving red lip marks on the glass. 

Stiles can’t take his eyes off her. He keeps smiling at her then looking down at his hands. 

Derek knows that feeling. He reaches under the table and squeezes her hand. She smiles back, happily. They order food and carry on chatting, pausing only to eat. Derek watches Stiles and Lydia, watches how well they’re getting on. It’s wonderful. He likes it and grins at Stiles. Stiles grins back, then winks at him. 

After they’ve eaten they stand outside the restaurant awkwardly. 

“I’ll call,” Derek says to Stiles. “Are you free next week?”

“I am,” Stiles says. “Most days, I think. Let me know.”

“I will.” Derek moves to hug Stiles goodbye, when Lydia interrupts them.

“Come back to our place,” she says.

“Hmm?” Stiles asks, looking at her. 

“Come back to ours.”

“Now?”

“Sure. I’m sure Derek doesn’t mind.”

“Of course not,” Derek says. 

“I’d like that,” Stiles says, and walks across to the car with them.

At home, Derek opens another bottle of wine. “I’m enjoying living in California solely for the wine.”

“Yeah?” Stiles asks. He takes a seat at the bar in the kitchen. 

Lydia excuses herself to get changed. Derek pours three glasses and passes one to Stiles.

“Where are you from originally?” Stiles asks.

“Bellingham, Washington,” Derek says. “Like the furthest town north before you get to Canada.”

“Oh, wow. I’d love to go that far north.”

“It’s beautiful,” Derek says. “I miss the ocean.”

“We’re not that far away, I mean relatively.”

“No, I know. Idaho was too far, but Lyds and I haven’t made a trip yet.”

“We should go, one time. I love it.”

“Okay, deal.”

They go through to the living room and Derek points at a framed photo on the wall. “This is Washington, real near to where I used to live.”

“Oh, wow.” Stiles steps over to look. “This is a great photo, where is it from?”

“I took it,” Derek says.

“No way. Wow, didn’t know you were a hidden talent.”

Derek laughs. “Thanks.”

“Do you have more like this?” 

“Sure, lots.” Derek opens his laptop and sits down on the couch, clicking through to find the folder of that trip to Washington, taken a few years ago. 

Stiles sits next to him, knee in Derek’s thigh, like he always sits. Derek starts the slideshow, commenting on some photos but not on others.

He can feel Stiles’ breath on his neck when Stiles leans forward for a closer look. He almost can’t believe that Stiles is in his house, right next to him, and that Lydia seems to like him. It’s great. 

When Lydia comes back downstairs Stiles says, “Oh, hey, you want me to move?”

“Oh, no, no worries.” Lydia grabs the remote controls and sits down cross legged in the chair. She’s in her pyjamas now, her face scrubbed clean of make up. “He’s always way too warm, anyway.”

“Is he?”

“Like a hot water bottle,” Lydia says. “You’ll notice most of our windows stay open year round.”

“I really am,” Derek says. “I’m always too hot.”

“You sure are,” Stiles jokes.

Derek feels himself blushing and concentrates instead on the next photo that comes on the screen.

They watch TV and carry on chatting, and open another bottle of wine. Lydia is yawning endlessly and excuses herself to bed. 

“Wait,” Derek says, and follows her into the hallway. “Are you okay?”

“Sure, sweetie,” she says. “What’s up?”

“I was kinda surprised you invited Stiles back here, that’s all.”

“Sweetheart, you like him and he likes you, and you’ve already slept together.”

“Right.”

“So sleep with him here.” She reaches to hug Derek. “There’s a perfectly good spare bedroom and we can have breakfast together.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. Be safe, okay?” She kisses his cheek.

He turns to kiss her mouth. She rests against him for a second when they pull apart. 

“Thank you,” he says. “Sleep well, okay?”

“I will. You too. Have fun with your boy.”

“He’s not…” Derek starts, and then nods. 

Stiles really kinda is. There’s no use denying it and besides, he makes Derek feel good. 

What feels even better is them sliding into the cool cotton sheets together an hour later, and getting to sleep together the whole night. Stiles sleeps pressed right into Derek’s back, his knees tucked in behind Derek’s and his arm over Derek’s hip.

Derek sleeps stupidly well and when he goes downstairs the next morning Stiles is sipping coffee with his bare feet on their coffee table, and Lydia is sitting on the other end of the couch from him, laughing at what he’s saying.

“Good morning,” Derek says.

“There’s fresh coffee,” Lydia says.

Derek goes to get some and hears Stiles stand up. 

“I gotta get going,” Stiles says, stretching. He smiles at Derek when he goes back through.

“I’ll see you to the door,” Derek says. 

“Thank you for letting me stay,” Stiles says to Lydia.

She stands up, and hugs him. It’s so unlike her that Derek is more than taken aback. “You’re welcome.”

“Oh, and you’re right,” Stiles says, squeezing her. “He is like a hot water bottle.” He winks at Derek over her shoulder.

 

*

 

Stiles staying over becomes routine. Lydia finds herself looking forward to the Friday or Saturday nights when they’ll go out to eat or to watch a movie or a show and then come back to chill out before she heads to bed. She’s usually tired from her work week, and she actually really likes going to sleep alone, stretching out in their big bed while listening to Derek and Stiles chatting and laughing downstairs. 

Any idiot can see that Stiles is good at making her husband happy. He’s a terrible flirt and it makes Derek all coy. Lydia likes when Derek blushes, right to the tip of his ears. She likes that Derek feels safer with this guy around.

And she likes Stiles too. He is still kind of like the awkward kid she remembers, but he’s also extremely thoughtful and is also respectful of her and the house. He asks permission before he does anything, instead of expecting that either of them will just give him space. She likes that he respects her boundaries without even knowing exactly what they are. 

Lydia is very careful to not listen to them having sex. Apart from the invasion of privacy it would also be just one step too far for her. She gets that it’s part of what happens between them, but it doesn’t mean she needs to hear it. 

Instead she cocoons herself into bed and falls asleep listening to an audiobook on her phone. Sometimes when she wakes up Derek is beside her, and sometimes he isn’t. Either way, she doesn’t mind. He’s still hers. 

One weekend, though, she’s finding it hard to sleep. She’s got a lot of work on at school. She enjoys being Assistant Principal but there’s a lot to do on top of teaching. She tosses and turns for a while before giving up and getting out of bed. Derek isn’t there, so she tiptoes past the spare room and heads downstairs. 

Stiles is sitting in the middle of the couch with the TV turned out really low.

“Shit,” Lydia says. “I didn’t expect anyone to be up.”

“Sorry, did I wake you?”

“Not at all. I couldn’t sleep.”

“I’m a terrible insomniac,” Stiles says. “It’s not too bad if I’m by myself but I didn’t want to wake Derek.”

“Makes sense. Want some herbal tea?”

“That would be lovely.”

Lydia goes through to the kitchen and makes two cups of raspberry tea. She takes them back through and sets one in front of Stiles. 

It’s a little chilly downstairs. Lydia closes the open window.

“Sit here, if you’d like,” Stiles says. He’s under the throw that usually lives on the back of the couch. He pats the seat next to him. 

Lydia sits down and shares the throw with him. He’s warm and she shifts in closer, cosily.

“How are you?” Stiles asks, sipping his tea.

“Tired. Been tossing and turning for like an hour.”

“Me too. I tried reading but it wasn’t light enough.”

Lydia laughs. “Could just put the light on. Derek sleeps like the dead.”

“I have noticed.” Stiles grins. 

Lydia sips her tea for a few moments. She has rarely had the chance to speak to Stiles by himself. “I’m glad you’re around, you know.”

“Yeah?” Stiles looks at her. 

“You make him happy. You make him into this ridiculously cute guy. I like him.”

“I like him too. He’s awesome to flirt with because he blushes.”

“Totally my point,” Lydia says. “I never made him do that.”

“I’m sure you did a couple of times at least.” 

Lydia smiles. “But, it seems to be more with you than with other people he’s seen.”

“Yeah?” Stiles turns himself fully now toward her, like she’s seen him do with Derek. It’s kind of nice having him all up in her space. He is a good looking guy. 

“He told you why we started this, right? He told you I’m asexual, I have no sexual feelings.”

“No, he never told me.”

“Never?”

“No.” Stiles shakes his head. “He doesn’t spill your secrets.”

“It’s not exactly a secret. I have sex, sure, sometimes, but I don’t really feel sexual attraction? We worked out pretty early on that it didn’t work for Derek, so we came to the agreement that he could look elsewhere for sex.”

“I’m real glad you did.”

Lydia laughs. “He’s a sexual person.”

“He is.” Stiles waggles his eyebrows. If it was anyone else Lydia would mind. She finds she doesn’t mind when it’s Stiles.

“And he had a lot of sex with a lot of really beautiful women, once we worked it out.”

“You’re beautiful too,” Stiles says. 

“Thank you.”

“You are. I always thought that, even at school.” 

“I wouldn’t have believed you if you’d told me then. I had a lot of low self-esteem going on.”

“I would never have known. You had the hottest guy in school, for god’s sake.”

“Oh, you mean Jackson?” Lydia pushes her hair away from her face. “Do you remember him?”

“Vividly. He scared the shit out of me. He used to beat me and Scott up in the locker room.”

“Not a nice guy in any respect.”

“No?”

“I slept with him – lost my virginity to him, in fact. I did it a hundred times because he wanted to and because I thought I’d get used to it.”

“Oh, sweetie.” Stiles touches her arm.

She likes it, she doesn’t pull away. She never likes people touching her, except for Derek. “I know. What a dick. But I never liked sex and eventually he realized that and he – Jesus. He made me feel like I was broken and wrong.”

“Ugh. Fucker.”

“But I believed it.” Lydia isn’t sure why she’s still talking. She never talks like this, so openly and candidly. Stiles’ eyes on her make her feel safe, though, and the sympathetic look on his face. “I believed it for so long.”

“It’s not true.”

“I know that now, of course I do. But I was just a teenager and I didn’t know.”

“When did you guys break up?”

“The summer between junior and senior year. I thought I might be a lesbian for a while.”

Stiles grins and opens his mouth.

“Don’t you dare make a joke about _that_ ,” Lydia warns. She’s smiling though, and kind of thinking about how warm and inviting his mouth is. 

“Sorry.”

“Allison and I were a thing.”

“No!”

“Yeah. For like six months senior year?”

“No way.” Stiles pulls a ridiculous face.

Lydia giggles at him and then, quickly, leans over and kisses him.

He doesn’t move away but he does get serious real quick. 

“Sorry,” Lydia says. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Shouldn’t you?” Stiles’ hand is still on her arm only now it feels like his touch is burning her skin. 

“I – I don’t know?”

“Lydia…”

“I like you a lot.”

“I like you a lot, too.”

“I never – like I don’t do that kind of thing.”

“Sweetie, if you want…”

“I do. Shit, I do.” The words spill out of Lydia now. “I’d like to date you – I’m asexual but I like romance, I like dating, I love it. That’s why Derek and I go out – I really like it.”

“Yeah, it’s kind of amazing how good the two of you are at that.”

Lydia nods. 

“I’d like to take you on a date.”

“Yeah?”

“Are you kidding? Yes.”

“Okay. I’d like that.”

Stiles grins, eyes crinkling at the corners. “My boyfriend’s gonna be real jealous of my new date.”

“You’re such an idiot,” Lydia says, pulling his hand into her lap. 

“I know,” Stiles says. “I’m told it’s captivating.”

 

*

 

It’s Christmas. Christmas Eve also happens to be the five month anniversary of Derek and Stiles’ first date. “If we were counting,” Stiles says. “Which we’re not.” 

“We can count if you’d like,” Derek says, kissing Stiles in the kitchen.

“You two are adorable,” Lydia says, “but you’re also in my way.”

“Sorry,” Derek says, stepping aside. “What do you need?”

“The punch fountain. It’s in the far cupboard.”

“We have a punch fountain?” Derek reaches and lifts down the blue plastic thing Lydia points to. “Is that what this thing is?”

Lydia laughs and starts to pour in juice and alcohol, before switching the electricity on to make the liquid flow. 

“Pretty,” Stiles says. 

They’re having a party, just some neighbors and friends and some colleagues of Lydia’s. Derek invited the guy a couple doors down who also works from home and who always stops to talk to Derek. That is basically the only person he knows in Beacon Hills except Stiles. 

Scott and Kira are coming too. Derek has met them a few times, but Lydia never has. He’s kind of nervous about it. 

“Listen,” Stiles says as they’re getting food set out on foil platters. “I think there’s something I ought to tell you both.”

Derek stops, looks at him, looks at Lydia. It sounds serious. “What is it?”

“Scott and Kira got engaged.”

“Wow,” Derek says. 

Lydia stops too, a frown on her face. “Did you think that would happen?”

“Sure, kinda? I think it’s the next step for them, for them to get married.”

“Where does that leave you?” Lydia asks.

“Oh, I’m not broken up with or anything. They made sure to tell me that.”

“Right, but they’ll move in together, get married, all of that, right?”

“More than likely, yeah. Kira practically lives with Scott and his mom right now anyway. But Scott and I tried living together… Didn’t work.”

“No?” Lydia is pouring chips into dishes. 

“God no. Way too similar, drove each other crazy.”

“Okay.”

“No, I know,” Stiles says, understanding Lydia’s reticence without her having to explain it. He’s good at that, Derek thinks. He’s getting used to how she works. “I guess it did throw me a little, and I guess I don’t really understand how I’ll fit in. But, what can I do?”

“I don’t know, sweetie,” Lydia says. “Nothing, most probably. They’ll do what they feel is best for them. But I want what’s best for you.”

“So do I,” Derek says. He doesn’t exactly know what to say, so he goes round and gives Stiles a small hug. 

“I do too,” Stiles says, leaning into him. “I’m happy for them, honestly.”

“Sure,” Lydia says. “I’ll believe you.”

“I have no other choice,” Stiles says.

Derek rubs his back. 

Lydia says nothing more. Guests start to arrive and Derek goes to the door to greet them. 

When Scott and Kira arrive Derek greets Scott with a handshake and Kira hugs him. “Hi!” she says. “Thank you for inviting us.”

“Thank you for coming,” Derek says.

“Where’s Lydia?” 

Derek pokes his head into the living room. “Sweetie? Scott and Kira are here.”

Lydia comes through. “Hey!”

Kira greets her with a hug too. “Oh it’s so good to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Lydia says, smiling widely. “Can I get you a drink?”

Kira follows Lydia through to the kitchen, still chatting to her. Scott smiles at Derek. “Here, I brought a bottle.”

“Thanks,” Derek says, taking it. “There’s tons to drink in the kitchen.”

“Is Stiles in there?”

“I think so, yeah.”

Scott goes through. Derek’s about to follow, but the doorbell goes again.

Later, Derek is passing through the kitchen for another glass of the delicious mulled wine that Stiles made earlier. In the dining area Scott and Stiles are talking close together. Stiles looks upset, rubbing his hand over his face. 

Derek sips the warm wine, stepping out of the way of someone coming to refill their punch glass. Should he go over? He wants to. He steps behind Stiles and rubs his shoulder. “Okay?”

Stiles looks up at him. “Hey.”

“Are you okay?”

Stiles nods, but Derek doesn’t believe him. 

“Stiles told you we got engaged,” Scott says. 

“He did,” Derek says. “Congratulations.”

“It isn’t like we don’t love Stiles anymore,” Scott says, his eyes begging Derek to understand. “We do – I do, a _lot_ …”

“It’s just I’m not number one,” Stiles says. He stands up, shrugging Derek’s arm off his shoulder. “Maybe I’m just sick of not being anyone’s first choice.” He leaves the kitchen.

Derek follows him, upstairs to the room where Stiles stays. Stiles has kept the light off, so the only light is coming from outside. He’s sitting on the bed, his back against the wall. “Sweetie,” Derek says.

“I’m okay.”

“You don’t have to be.”

Stiles laughs, a bitter sound twisted with a sob. 

Derek sits down on the end of the bed. “I’m sorry you’re not their first choice.”

“I can’t even be that mad, that’s the stupid thing.” 

“No?”

“I want my best friends to be happy, Jesus. I just want to have someone _choose_ me.”

“I’m sorry I can’t do that, either.”

“No, it isn’t really about you, either, I swear. I met you as a married guy, I never wanted anything else. And I love spending time with Lydia, you know that.”

“I love you, you know,” Derek says softly, his hand on Stiles’ knee.

“You don’t have to say that just because I’m upset.”

“I’m not saying it just because you’re upset. I’m saying it because I mean it.”

“Yeah?” Stiles makes a sound halfway between a hiccup and a laugh. “You might’ve noticed I love you, too.”

“I was hoping you did.”

Stiles kisses him on the mouth in the dark. “Thank you.”

Derek puts his arms around Stiles tightly. “Any time.” He stands up. “Come down when you feel ready, okay?”

 

*

 

In February Stiles’ lease runs out and the owner of the loft doesn’t want to renew it.

“Move in with us,” Lydia says over fresh fish tapas in Eureka, where they’ve come for a day trip to the ocean, even though it’s cold.

“Yeah right,” Stiles says. 

“Why not?” Lydia says. She looks at Derek. “Right?”

“Right,” Derek says, suddenly taken by the idea of having both of them under the same roof. “Christ, yeah.”

“Guys,” Stiles says. “Really.”

“Really,” Lydia says. “It’d be practical, and, well, nice.”

“Nice?” Stiles teases her. “You love me and the best you can say is that living with me would be nice?”

Derek laughs, but raises his eyebrows too. He didn’t know the two of them had exchanged I love yous, but the way Lydia is blushing tells him they have. He squeezes her thigh under the table. 

“More than nice, you douche,” Lydia says. “Lovely, wonderful, amazing, et cetera.”

“I can tell why you’re an English teacher,” Stiles says, winking. 

“I’d like it,” Derek says. “It’d be great to live with my two favourite people.”

“Okay,” Stiles says. “Thank you.”

They’re staying over in Eureka in a beat up old clapperboard hotel, in two rooms on separate floors. Lydia’s is a single one in the attic with sloping ceilings and a great view of the ocean. Stiles and Derek’s has a big squishy bed where the three of them watch TV until 1am, chatting about Stiles moving in and how they can rearrange furniture.

Lydia kisses each of them when she leaves. “Sleep well.”

“I can’t promise we will,” Stiles says. 

“Me either,” Derek says. “Sorry.”

“Be safe,” Lydia says, and shuts the door gently behind her.

“She kind of sprung that on you,” Stiles says as Derek comes back to the bed. 

“What?”

“Me moving in.”

“Stiles, honey, Lydia has good ideas more often than the two of us put together.”

“Sure, but if you didn’t think it was a good idea, would you say?”

“Yes, I would. You’d know, I promise.” Derek kneels on the edge of the bed, between Stiles’ thighs. Naked Stiles is goooood. His skin is soft and he has this trail of hair going down to his dick that Derek wants to lick, fairer hair than you might think. Derek might lick it, in fact. 

There’s a strong possibility Derek is drunk. He brings himself back to Stiles’ eyes. 

“Okay. Thank you,” Stiles says, and does that shy half-grin that Derek adores. 

“It’ll be awesome to have you at my house – at home – all the time.”

“It will,” Stiles says. His hand is on Derek’s chest and he’s peppering Derek with kisses. 

Derek follows him up the bed, kissing back, one hand trailing over Stiles’ hip and stomach. God, the thought of having Stiles with them all the time – it’s too much. He moves back down the bed and starts to kiss and suck at that soft skin just like he wanted to.

 

*

 

Stiles has more stuff than anyone thought. His dad thought Stiles moving was as good a reason as any to go through things that Stiles had left behind when he went to college, only Stiles doesn’t have time to look through it all before he has to move, so as many old boxes come with him as new ones. They pile them into the dining area and forego eating there, instead sitting on their butts round the coffee table in the living room.

“It’ll be okay,” Derek says uncertainly, looking at the pile of boxes which are now balanced all around the space that he usually studies in. 

“I’ll get through them,” Stiles says.

He doesn’t, and Derek can’t study in a space that isn’t tidy; it makes him itch. He tries studying in the bedroom, only that’s not overly tidy either. There’s also nowhere for Stiles to study, so he does that at the coffee table too, but it’s not ideal. 

Eventually he decamps to the local library, but it’s not the same as being at home where he can grab a book or a file that he needs whenever he wants it. 

Another issue is that the second bedroom in the house, the one where Stiles is now living, is tiny. The bed is a small double and the two of them could squash in to it enough to sleep every now and then, but now it’s Stiles’ permanent bed it just isn’t big enough. They consider buying another one, but then there wouldn’t be any space to walk around the bed, so they’d have to slide into it from the bottom. 

“We’ll move,” Lydia says. “Our lease is up in June. Wow, I can’t believe it’ll be a year since we moved here.”

“Me either,” Derek says. 

“Can I take you away for our anniversary?” Stiles asks. He’s already fired up his laptop to start looking at rental listings, something which he finds stupidly soothing. He likes to imagine himself living in every style of house or apartment. 

“You can,” Derek says, and leans down behind Stiles, his arm around Stiles’ shoulders. 

They look at a number of places with two decent sized bedrooms and two baths. Nothing exactly has the wow factor. One Saturday, after a tiring day with what feels like a hundred realtor appointments, Derek lays flat on the living room floor and sighs.

“The fourth place wasn’t so bad,” Lydia says.

“Which one was that?” Stiles asks. 

“With the aquamarine bathroom.”

“Well, I didn’t hate the bathroom,” Stiles says.

“Guys,” Derek says, eyeing the ceiling. 

“Mmm?” Lydia says tiredly. She pokes his knee with her foot.

“I think I may need a bedroom to myself.”

“Some people,” Stiles laughs. 

“For studying,” Derek says. “I kind of need a place.”

“Okay,” Lydia says. She crosses to the couch to click on to Stiles’ laptop. He puts his arm around her as she does so and she folds herself into his side. “We’d better look at some three bedroomed places.”

It turns out that three bedroomed places within the town limits are way out of their budget, even with Stiles contributing too. Either that or they need way too much work doing to them to make them habitable. Instead they start to look further out into the country. Lydia’s car is decent, Stiles’ Jeep will manage, and Derek figures he can buy a scooter or something. 

Eventually they find a place only slightly out of town, where Derek can walk to town if he’s feeling energetic. 

“I can give you a ride,” Stiles says.

“Ever the gentleman,” Derek says, and laughs when Stiles bows at him. 

It’s a gorgeous house, though. It has a wooden porch at the front overlooking the woods, and it has a big open plan living/dining/kitchen space downstairs, and four bedrooms upstairs. 

“It’s kind of like the house I grew up in,” Derek says.

“Yeah?” Lydia asks. She’s standing at one window, looking out at the porch. “Do you think we could screen that in? I can imagine sitting there all winter, maybe one of those burners to keep us warm?”

Derek nods. “I bet it could be done.”

“Or at least half of it,” Stiles says. “My dad could probably help. He’s kind of practical that way.”

“That’d be cool,” Derek says. 

He loves his study. They get cheap bookshelves from Ikea and he fills them with books and trinkets, some of which he had even forgotten he owned. There’s some things that belonged to his mom which he displays proudly. His desk is a big corner one with plenty of space for all the books and papers he needs.

They buy two huge beds for two of the rooms and somehow, in this house, they end up swapping sleeping places much more than before. Stiles and Lydia still have never had sex, but they do like sleeping together, curled into each other. Derek can choose either of them, or sometimes takes himself off to the cool bed in the other room if he wants to stretch out. 

It’s a beautiful calm house; it’s exactly what Derek never knew he needed.

Stiles sees Scott and Kira maybe twice a month, but often uses the distance of the new house as an excuse to not go. “We’re still friends,” he says, “It just moved on.”

 

*

 

It’s the middle of July and it’s Stiles and Derek’s anniversary. Stiles had woken him with a kiss and a gift and together they’d made breakfast while Lydia read the papers. She likes to watch them when they don’t know she is; the open plan nature of the downstairs of this house makes it possible. They’re very physical together, hips bumping as Derek fries thin crepes, Stiles touching the back of Derek’s head as he passes him a glass of juice. She’s found she likes to watch them. It’s like a secret that’s just hers.

She has another secret that’s just hers, too, but she isn’t ready to spill it just yet. 

A few days later they go to a rental north of Eureka for the weekend as a surprise gift for Derek.

“You don’t have to take me,” Lydia had protested. “It’s your anniversary.”

“I want you to come,” Stiles had said. “It’s my surprise and I want you to be part of it too.”

So she came. The rental house is tiny but cute, and right on the ocean. Derek jumps down on to the beach as soon as they arrive. 

“Let’s barbecue here,” he says later, so they do. They build a fire on some rocks and barbecue sweet ears of corn and frankfurters which Stiles just puts in buns with ketchup and mustard. The sun is going down on the horizon, but it’s still warm by the fire. Lydia breaks open a packet of marshmallows to toast.

She watches Stiles feed one gooey mess to Derek and doesn’t totally turn away when Stiles kisses stickiness off Derek’s lips. Derek laughs into the kiss, a low, contented sound.

Lydia knows they had a good time together before Stiles came along but she feels like Derek is even happier now and she likes that a lot, too. She and he have a good time, too. They talk a lot about things that she wouldn’t say to anyone else. He’s always so careful with her, continually reassessing her boundaries. 

He comes across with a toasted marshmallow for her. “Careful, it’s hot.”

“Thank you.” She takes the stick and he sits on the sand next to her, close enough that she can feel the heat of his thigh through her jeans. 

Derek takes off down the beach, standing at the water’s edge. He skims stones for a while, and when he comes back he has a piece of green beach glass that he hands to Lydia. 

“Thank you,” she says, and puts it in her pocket.

She’s starting to get chilly, so she stands up. “I’m going to let you two lovebirds stay here for a while. I’m going to bed.”

“Night sweetie,” Derek says, and kisses her goodnight when she stands up. 

“Sleep well,” Stiles says from the sand.

“Be safe,” she says, like she always does. She heads up the beach and back across the road to the house, where one light was left on. She lets herself in. 

She knows that Derek would always use protection with other people, to protect her as much as him. She knows that on the odd occasion that she does sleep with him, they don’t use anything. But she has taken the pill for years to help curb her heavy periods. She doesn’t remember missing one, but she must have, or something else happened. Either way, she took a few tests the previous week and the conclusion has been the same. She’s pregnant.

She remembers the piece of beach glass when she’s inside. She goes into the double bedroom, where Derek and Stiles will sleep, and puts it and one of the tests on the bed at the bottom, where they’ll definitely see it.

If someone had asked her even this time last year whether she’d be planning on bringing up a child with two people instead of just one, she’d have thought they were crazy. She wasn’t expecting to fall in love with someone Derek was seeing, especially not a guy. 

Now, though, she can’t imagine doing it any other way. She always knew Derek would make an excellent dad, and she thinks Stiles will too. 

She goes to bed and lays on her back touching her stomach, even though she knows she can’t possibly feel anything yet. Thank god the new house has four bedrooms. The smallest one will be a gorgeous bright nursery.

In the morning they wake her with kisses and hugs and congratulations.

“You really want me involved?” Stiles asks, chewing his lip nervously.

“I do, of course I do,” Lydia says.

“I told you,” Derek says, kissing her temple. “She has the best ideas.”


End file.
